What Happens in Reno
by Mali Bear's Buddy
Summary: Reno, Nevada. November 2005.  When whiskey isn't enough to erase the pain of losing her family, Kait seeks comfort in fellow hunter Dean Winchester. Will she find more than she bargained for? Prequel to The Green Eyed Monster. Dean/OC. For stephaniew.
1. Whiskey Girl

**A/N:** For those of you who are familiar with my story _The Green Eyed Monster _(and those of you who aren't), this is Part 1 of Kaitlyn's backstory.

I'm going to write at least this chapter in first person just for something a little different. It makes me nervous and a little giddy to do it this way because I find first person scary. For those interested in stats, I think it'll end up shaking out at 5-10 chapters given what I hope to do with it.

Many thanks to **stephaniew** for encouraging me to chase all of the butterflies my muse flutters in front of me. I would be nothing without her support and she's been asking for more Kait, so this one's for her...

Any mistakes in the final version are mine because I wanted it to be at least a little bit of a surprise and Steph is my beta.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Supernatural_...I do, however, for better or for worse own Kait.

Chapter One: Whiskey Girl

This kinda bar really isn't my scene. My taste in music is eclectic, but I'm more sawdust and line dancin' than hair bands and pool halls. Some might say I'm lookin' for trouble or spoilin' for a fight. But I'm really not out for either.

I am lookin' for something though. Someone anyway. Someone very specific. Dean Winchester. On second thought, I'm wrong. I hear Dean's a handful...and I'm definitely lookin' for _that_ kinda trouble.

Hunters are a relatively tight knit bunch. Everybody knows somebody who knows somebody else, but most know the name Winchester better than their own. It didn't take long to find out he was in Reno. I drove straight through the night from Tulsa to get here.

Throwing back a shot of Jack Daniels, I wait on a bar stool thinking about how much my life has changed. Ya see, seventy-two hours ago I learned the hard way I was never gonna be Daddy's Kaity Bear again. When you salt and burn your folks, you bury parts of yourself. You leave them behind. Scattered in the wind like your parents' ashes.

Someday I'll get that thing. Whatever the hell it was. My gut says it won't be any time soon and it may be the last thing I do, but I'll do it.

Before you go assuming I'm lookin' to get Dean's help or that I wanna team up with him, lemme stop you. That isn't what I want. I've been hunting since I was 15. I'd caught Mama and Daddy with shotguns full of rock salt and a bloody machete. Life wasn't the same after that. I can handle myself.

I've tried almost everything to chase the chill of losing my parents away, but nothin's helped. Closest I've come was booze, but there wasn't enough burn to warm me in Daddy's liquor cabinet. I finally decided maybe alcohol wasn't the answer. Somehow I reasoned flesh was. That what I needed was to lose myself in lust with one of my own kind. Someone who could understand the loss I'm going through because he's lived it. A hunter.

Why Dean and not some random schmuck? Simple. I have to make a choice. I've gotta decide if I'm gonna go back to school and act like nothing's happened. If I'm gonna say to hell with this life or if I'm gonna keep doing what I was born to do - hunt and kill things people don't want to admit exist.

What does any of this have to do with Dean? Come on. John Winchester's boy is a player and everybody knows it. He uses women like toilet paper. I'm not lookin' to fall in love or get attached. _That_'s nothin' but trouble. Which is why Dean's perfect. We can use each other. He serves a purpose.

I watch him walk in like he owns the place. His stride is confident and easy. This is the point where I'd usually snicker and say no man deserved to be that sure of himself. That somebody needed to teach the joker a lesson.

But the way his worn jeans hang from his hips. The soft smile on his lips and the fall of his hair. You wouldn't normally call a man pretty, but damn. He's easily one of the best looking men I've ever met. Another reason he's a good pick.

He slides onto the stool next to mine and my breath catches at the vibrant green of his eyes as he looks me over.

"Haven't seen you around before," he says casually, his long fingers curling around the tumbler the bartender places in front of him. "New in town?"

Let me be clear: I am _so_ not that kind of girl. The one that falls for the charms of a man who's easy on the eyes. Certainly not one who bites at such cheesy lines. It's all in his delivery.

For the record, all the rumors you've heard about Dean's smile making you wanna willingly give up your panties are completely true. I feel naked, but not vulnerable. Snapping back into focus, I laugh. It feels good to laugh. For the first time in days I feel alive. I consider my choice of words carefully before answering, "Passin' through."

He nods and I find myself struggling to focus as his tongue scrapes across his lips. His mouth looks edible. The tiny freckle drawing your eyes to it like a homing beacon. I'm far from being a nun. I've never considered leaning over and helping myself to a kiss with a perfect stranger. Not until now. He's practically asking for it.

"Me, too," he says, sipping his drink.

"Oh, yeah?" I ask. Resting an elbow on the bar and slipping my fingers into my hair, I lean closer. _Good Lord._ He smells like warm leather and spicy aftershave. I can tell by the way his eyes slide over my body that he's on the prowl. This'll be easier than I'd thought.

"Yep," he says, popping the 'p'. "Business or pleasure?"

I shrug. "Maybe both?"

His eyes sparkle as he sticks out his hand. "I'm Dean, by the way."

"Kait," I answer shaking it.

"Well, Kait," he says, leaning closer. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"It's 2005, Dean," I tease. Closing the distance, I pluck his mouth with mine. My tongue flickers against the bud at the center of his upper lip as I pull away. I signal the barkeep and order two more shots. "I think you should let me buy you one."

He smiles before stroking his thumb over his lips. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," I tell him. Oh, boy, kissing this man was definitely a pleasure. Warm and firm, the tang of his chapstick making my head swim more than the bourbon in my glass. "How long you in town for?"

"Couple more days," he answers, knocking back half his drink. "You?"

"Not sure yet," I say with grin, trailing my fingers over the buttons on his shirt. "Why? You offering to show me around?"

He shakes his head. "Afraid this is the only place I've been other than workin' with my dad."

Raising an eyebrow, I nibble my lower lip. He watches intently. I can feel his eyes on me. So I reel him in, timing it just right. "Guess the only thing you could give me a tour of would be your motel room then."

Dean chokes on his whiskey, probably because he isn't expecting my bold remark. His glass hitting the bar with unintentional roughness, he sputters. His eyes wide as they shoot to mine.

"What's the matter, Dean?" I taunt, "Cat got your tongue?"

A big palm lands on my hip, sipping beneath the edge of my blouse and brushing along the waist of my jeans. I'm suddenly aware I've lost the upper hand. His eyes are dark and clouded with lust as he stares down at me. It's a struggle to stay still as I await his next move.

His mouth slides to my ear. "No," he breathes hotly, "but I have a feeling a Kait is about to."

My lips find his quickly. The kiss he gives me is soul searing. My tongue ghosting against his, I silently accept everything he offers me. Lust. Heat. Passion. Intense pleasure. The sweetest sins imaginable. But most of all, a way escape the pain that eats at my heart.

I pull back, I admire how the shade of my gloss now stains his lips. My hand finds his as I slide off my seat, our bodies aligning and pressing together. I almost don't recognize my own voice, need dripping from it as I pant, "Let's get outta here..."


	2. Shoulda Called Him 'Whiskey'

**A/N:** Many apologies for the delay! Here's Dean's POV on meeting Kait...

Many thanks to friend, fellow writer and co-conspirator, **stephaniew**. Steph's got interesting things brewing with OCs for both Dean and Sam. Use the handy link in my profile to check out all her wonderful stories. Go ahead, you know you want to. This can wait. Really.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Supernatural..._or the song this chapter is named for.

Shoulda Called Him 'Whiskey'

It's more early than it is late given the schedule I keep. Dad's off doing whatever the hell it is he does. It's good because it means I can relax a bit. My old man's all business and a guy's gotta live a little and have some fun.

I take a hot shower and clean all the mud and ecto off. That stuff smells rank and sticks like tar. I double check my hair in the mirror to make sure I got all the goo before applying gel. After a quick shave, I splash on a little extra cologne to cover the stench that still clings to my skin in spite of the scrubbing. Gotta impress the ladies.

I dress quickly, slipping into my favorite pair of Levi's and a clean shirt. There's a chill in the air, so I hurry into my jacket as I make my way out to the car.

The Impala. _My baby._ She may be old, but she still purrs like a kitten. Nothin' like the feelin' of those wheels cruisin' down the open road. I love that car. It's part of me. I don't need a fancy CD player or bucket seats. A girl can't snuggle close and kiss your neck unless you got a bench. Why would I give _that_ up?

The glow of familiar neon greets me as I pull into the parking lot. I've been comin' here a lot. There's something different about this place. It isn't like a lot of the other dive bars I've been to. Which says a lot, because I been in more watering holes than the pope has confessionals.

Walking through the door, I take in the scenery. The little blonde waitress I've been flirting with most of the week gives me a wink and I flash her a smile. I'll be damned if I could remember her name to save my life. Doesn't really matter anyway. She's not my type.

I let out a low whistle when I see a redhead at the counter. She has a lean build with curves in all the right places. I smile at the bartender and take a seat on the stool next to hers.

"Haven't seen you around before," I say, grabbing the glass Mitch slides in front of me with a nod. "New in town?"

She laughs, setting her glass on the bar top. Her voice is slow when she answers, "Passin' through."

I nod and I lick my lips. I know what she's thinking as she watches me. Sure, I use lines to pick up chicks. Any man who says he doesn't is lyin'. But it's the little things that make them lose it. Make them want to go home with you.

"Me, too," I say, sipping my drink. I pay more attention to the tumbler in my hand than I do her. Keep it casual so I don't look too interested.

"Oh, yeah?" she asks. She rests an elbow on the bar and slips her fingers into her hair. She's flirting. It's kinda cute. But I'd never say that out loud because chicks don't like to be seen as cute. And when you're looking to score, you give 'em what they want.

"Yep," I answer, rubbing my jaw. "Business or pleasure?"

She shrugs, the material of her shirt pulling tight across her breasts. It makes my fingers itch to touch her. Makes me want to bury my face in her cleavage until I forget how to breath. That'd be the way to go out. Face nestled in a nice pair of tits. She stops the thought with her answer. "Maybe both?"

I stick out my hand, pulling my eyes back up to hers. "I'm Dean, by the way."

"Kait," she answers taking it. Her eyes dance and her mouth turns up in a saucy grin. I know I've been caught looking.

"Well, Kait," I say, leaning in. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"It's 2005, Dean," she laughs. She leans close, her mouth sliding over mine. I feel the pressure of her tongue against my lips, but before I can taste her she pulls away. "I think you should let me buy you one."

I smile, swiping the pad of my thumb to relive the touch. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," she says. "How long you in town for?"

"Couple more days," I tell her, sloshing the liquor around in my glass. "You?"

"Not sure yet," she tells me, smiling as she runs her fingers over the buttons on my shirt. Her touch is electric. I wanna know what it'd be like on my bare skin. "Why? You offering to show me around?"

I shake my head and sip my drink. She's got my mind wandering. And I don't mean the one in my head. "Afraid this is the only place I've been other than workin' with my dad."

Her brow shoots up and she bites her lip. I watch her. I can't not watch her. She thinks she's being innocent, but I'm not fooled. "Guess the only thing you could give me a tour of would be your motel room then."

_Okay. I take it back. I wasn't expecting _that. I nearly spew a mouthful of bourbon over Mitch. My glass drops heavily to the bar top and I stare at her. That was certainly direct. Helluvalot more direct than I'm used to.

"What's the matter, Dean?" she teases softly, "Cat got your tongue?"

I reach for her. My hand edges under her blouse and is met with the softest skin I've ever touched. I drag her close as I stroke the flesh of her side. My lips brush against the shell of her ear. "No," I breathe, "but I have a feeling a Kait is about to."

She draws back just enough to look at me. Her eyes are dark and slightly confused, but she doesn't object or shy away when my mouth finds hers. My tongue laps at her mouth. I tease her with a gentle thrust of it and a nip of her lip. I give her a promise of all the things I can do to her if she'll let me.

And boy, do I want to do them. Do anything I can get away with. She's warm and soft, feminine but not prissy. The way she kisses me is needy and hungry. I like that. I can work with it.

She pulls back and I know she's looking at the way her lipstick colors my mouth. She takes my hand as she hops off her stool. Her curves rub against me and I feel my body twitch in response.

Her voice ishusky and filled with what I hope is lust, she murmurs, "Let's get outta here."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Things are about to get hot and heavy...but will Dean and Kait get more than they bargained for?


	3. Insatiable

**A/N:** So, this one took a little longer than I anticipated, at least in part because I wasn't sure which POV to use. I'm going to abandon first person at least for now because the part I had sketched out wasn't written that way. If y'all want me to go back to first person, tell me in reviews? Otherwise, on with the story!

For **stephaniew**, who I know has been missing Kait...and **Natali**, an anonymous reviewer who Steph and I both wish we could thank properly.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

Insatiable

Kait half dances across the parking lot. Her body tingles with the anticipation of Dean's touch. She crooks her finger, beckoning him closer as she leans against the door to her motel room. This is exactly what she wants, isn't it? Dean to follow her to bed?

She pulls the key from her pocket, dangling it temptingly in front of him as her lashes fall to her cheeks. She can feel him closing in. Feel the warmth of his breath fanning against the skin of her face and neck.

Dean leans a hand against the door, the other snaking just under the cotton of her collar to brush against her throat. He angles her mouth, swaying into her without allowing their bodies to touch. His lips feather oh-so-close to touching hers, still he waits.

"Kait," he breathes in the barest of whispers. He wants to see it in her features. More than willing to tease and play, he wants to know for sure.

Her eyes rocket open. Wide and hazel, they connect with his. She bites her lip.

"You gonna invite me in?" he asks, his mouth trailing wildfire down the column of her neck to meet a chain hidden by her clothing. He still doesn't kiss her, his lips hover a breath away from her skin. His free hand slips inside her jacket and slides down her torso to the curve of her waist, his thumb brushing the underside of her breast over the fabric of her shirt. "Or is this good night?"

Kait shivers as desire courses through her veins. For a moment, she questions herself. Once she lets him in, there would be no going back. They're consenting adults, why shouldn't they use each other?

Turning, she slips the key into the lock. She arches against him, her head falling onto his shoulder as she works the door knob. Feels his hand pressing against her abdomen, pulling tight her against him. Moans at the way his teeth scrape against her earlobe.

Facing him again, she brushes her auburn hair out of her face. She steps into him, their bodies flush from knee to chest. Like two pieces of a puzzle, they fit.

She wraps one of his arms around her back and guides his hand to the door knob. "You coming in, Dean? Or am I sleeping alone tonight?"

His mouth descends on hers. She's hot. He feels the sting of whiskey on her lips, tastes it as her tongue melds against his. They fumble into the darkened room, bumping into furniture and stumbling as they tear at each other's clothing. He hears something crunching beneath their boots. Something familiar. _Rock salt?_

Her shirt is the first victim of their lust, several of the buttons popping loose and becoming lost in the awful shag carpeting. He slides it and her jacket off in a single motion.

Oddly, it's not the rise and fall of her breasts that get his attention. It's the silver amulet resting against her chest. It glows in the moonlight and makes his breath catch. _She's a hunter._

Undistracted, Kait's hands push at the leather of Dean's car coat. It slaps to the floor as her fingers glide along his neck and shoulders before curling into the cotton of his t-shirt. A groan paired with a whimper escape when they're forced apart to remove it.

She suckles at his lower lip and he drags her close. The heat of his skin is different than the burn of the whiskey she's tried to drown in. Bourbon may have dulled the pain, but it left her cold and empty. His calloused hands brand her. Warm her. Remind her she's still alive.

The lace of her bra tickles his chest, but it's her fingers and their barely-there caress of his shoulders that cause him to shudder. She rains kisses over his chest, laughing softly as they fall against the bed.

Her laughter is musical. The woman laying over is different. She's not like his other conquests. It makes him pull her tighter and claim her mouth again. Skilled hands quickly unhook her bra and he rolls her beneath him.

His eyes devour her, his mouth watering at the sight of her breasts as he tugs the lacy scrap that covers them away. His fingers trace over a tiny mole on her rib cage and a few silvery scars. She gorgeous. The battle-worn body of a hunter - a fellow warrior - is sexier than the perfect skin of college coeds or bar bunnies. It's a new experience.

Kait tries to calm her breathing and her racing heart. He's stunning...and not at all what she expected. She knew he'd be attentive - he couldn't have the reputation he had and not be.

But the tenderness? The way he looks at her like she's the only one? Like she's some kind of present or treasure?

It's too much. She wants hot, wild, monkey sex. Not a slow, passionate fuck. She has to keep the feelings out of it. Has to challenge him and push his buttons. She doesn't do messy. Doesn't want to fall in love.

She has to take control. To show him what she wants. To let him know he can take her. That they can take each other. She isn't some cocktail waitress or wallflower. She's an equal.

So, she puts Dean on his back. Pressing his wrists into the mattress above him and straddling his waist, she squirms against him. Her lips trailing up his neck to his ear, she murmurs tormentingly, "If I'd wanted slow, Dean, I'd have waited for Mitch to get off his shift."

He growls and overpowers her. An arm around her waist, he drags her up until her hair fans across the pillows. It's his turn to pin her arms to the bed and he tortures her with his mouth. He sucks the taut peak of her right nipple into his mouth, nipping at it lightly before blowing cool air against it. He repeats the process with her left.

She squirms, thrashing in his grip. He'll take all the damn time he wants. Savor every detail and make her wild with lust. Covering her body with his - using his weight to still her - he finds her ear. Whispering, he asks her, "Mitch who?"

Kait shakes her head. "What?"

A slow smile spreads across his face. "Mitch who," he mutters, his lips skimming over hers as his hands glide over her torso. Leaving her breathless and panting, he pushes up and moves to her feet. "That's what you'll be asking when I'm done with you."

He toes out of his boots before reaching for hers. The slow _snick_ of the zipper is mesmerizing. It builds the anticipation to a fevered pitch. He dumps one and then the other over his shoulder onto the floor.

Next to follow are her jeans. He works the clingy denim down her hips and thighs, pausing at her knees to marvel at the way her lower lip is caught between her teeth. She's figured him out. The more she demands, the more he'll make her wait. The more he'll tease her with his hands and his mouth.

Dean's fingers glide up her calves. He peppers a slow string of kisses over the muscles between her ankles and knees, pressing her thighs apart. His mouth drifts close to her core only to skip over it and the scrap of material covering her. His tongue dips into her belly button and he travels back up to her lips.

Kait whimpers beneath his kiss and guides his hands to her hips. She swallows, feeling herself melt and grow even warmer under his gaze.

"Take me," she urges, arching into him. Tongues tangle hotly and she feels his fingers tracing over her. She purrs when he strokes them into her.

The sound she makes rivals his favorite noise on earth - the hum of the Impala's engine. Like the car, she embodies sex. Everything about her is hot. It turns him on. Makes him want. And, the next thing she says makes him know that settling between her thighs is going to be like taking a long drive.

"Enough foreplay," she growls, her hands releasing the fastenings on his jeans and hurrying to wrap around him. "Take me."

This time he wants her too badly to fight. Too much to prolong the tension. But he's not ready for her to know it just yet. Not ready for her to know she's won.

He strips off his remaining clothes and reaches for her panties, smiling when she eagerly lifts her hips off of the bed to help him. Moving up the bed, he stops to taste her. He feels her fight it, feels the war of her body as she tries to determine her next move.

"Dean," she whimpers.

He reaches for the condom he pulled from his pocket and slide up to cover her mouth with his own as he smoothes on the protection. He pumps her with his fingers to be sure she's ready for him, tickling her and teasing her just a little more.

Kait gasps when he slides into her. Planting her hand against the headboard desperate for leverage, she pushes against him. Her eyes slam shut and she buries her face in his shoulder, clinging to him.

Moaning as he fills her, her tight heat enveloping him, he pulls her leg around his waist. His fingers dig into the muscles of her thigh as he thrusts into her.

Like eagles colliding in flight and careening toward the earth as they fight for dominance, it's an elegant battle. Both equally hunter and prey, they fight for control, soaring toward ecstasy together.

Panting for air, Dean rolls Kait over him. His hands map the curves of her body as he drives her toward another peak, pushing her further and higher with every stroke. Her fair skin is bathed in the glow of the moonlight and street lamps streaming through the filmy curtains at the window.

Feeling his body tense, Kait takes control. She undulates in his lap, her breasts swaying into his hands as he reaches for her. She urges him up, the new sensation and added stimulation causing new ripples of pleasure to flood through her body. She feels it in her limbs. Her fingers. Her toes. Everywhere.

Dean pulls her down tight. He encourages her to ride him harder and faster. He moans as her teeth scrape gently at his collarbone. Cries out as her lips find his pulse point.

They fall apart, each sprawling on their backs on top of the covers. They breathe heavily, trying to find their way back to center.

One falls into the peaceful slumber of a well spent lover. Gentle snores fill the air as everything fades to a complete and harmonious black.

The other's mind races, burning with questions. Hungry for answers. Feelings, unwanted but not unpleasant, surface. They bring wonder and hope. A desire for something never considered emerges. Watching the other hunter sleeping, an idea forms.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Supernatural ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dean blinks, his eyes trying to adjust to the dim light of the room. He watches Kait shimmy into her panties and blue jeans before tossing his clothes at him. Was she throwing him out? He feels so...used. Not that he hasn't done the same thing countless times.

"Get dressed," she says quickly. Reaching into her duffel, she pulls out a long sleeved t-shirt and hurries into it. Grinning, she adds, "I got a line on a ghoul three towns east of here. You up for it, Winchester?"


	4. Adrenaline Rush

**A/N:** For **stephaniew**...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

Adrenaline Rush

It was a whirlwind two and a half weeks. They hunted - fighting over research and who would take the lead. They made love - hot and passionate, a tangle of limbs as they each struggled to wrench control from the other. Warming each other's bodies and watching each other's backs. It was a new experience for both of them - not only hunting with someone that wasn't family but, more than that, having a lover that was one of their own kind.

After the ghouls came a coven of witches. But today's hunt was a water demon. A crash of lips, Dean's hand digging into Kait's sopping hair as he hauls her against his body, a shiver races up his spine and not because he's cold. Having someone - having another hunter - to burn away the adrenaline of a hunt thrills him. It's something he'd never thought about. Something he never knew he wanted.

The denim of her jacket slops to the floor of her motel room with a dull thud. His hands sneak beneath her soaked t-shirt, thumbs stroking up her abdomen as he pushes it upward. Teeth score her lower lip as his mouth curls upward in a playful smile. Voice a low growl, he hushes against her mouth, "Kait..."

She responds by peeling his t-shirt off. It's too intimate. It feels too right. She needs to escape his mouth. Force things to be slightly impersonal. Otherwise, she'll run. Things are just this side of messy. It wasn't supposed to get messy. That's why she's with him and not someone else.

She gasps as he forces the cup of her bra down and sucks a taut nipple into the heat of his mouth. Her hands attack his belt, dragging it from the loops and dropping it before tugging at his pants.

Dean's eyes slam shut and he moans as Kait's lips drift over his chest. It burns like a good shot of whiskey, making his chest ache and his fingers tingle for the next round. He swallows as she draws his jeans down, her breath flirting with his swollen arousal before she slinks her way back up his body with a throaty chuckle.

"Really, Dean?" she teases, "Commando?"

Slowly stripping off her own pants, carefully bending to expose herself to his view and further distract him, she leaves him trapped in his bunched up jeans and boots. Flopping on the bed, she bites her lip and wiggles until she's reclined against the pillows.

Dean watches the flex of her curves, his hand unconsciously wrapping around his length and tugging roughly. "Gotta watch laughing, sweetheart. A man might get the wrong idea."

Parting her thighs, Kait strokes her fingers along her naked skin. With a saucy grin, she tells him, "I'm sure I could put you back in the right mood pretty quick..."

He toes out of his boots and finishes stripping off his wet jeans, leaving them in a soggy heap on the cheap carpeting. His body throbbing with need, his instinct is to jump on top of her and sate both their needs. But he waits, staring even as she moans when her digits dance across her heat.

"You just wanna watch?" she provokes. With a mock pout, she adds, "I was hoping for a little help here..."

That does it. It pushes him over the edge. Playtime is over.

Diving in, Dean devours her. Tongue searching, hands wandering. He can't get enough. Knows he'll never get enough of this. Of _her_. What he thought he felt for Cassie Robinson was nothing in comparison to what he feels in this moment.

Kait senses the change in him. His rough hands are featherlight in their ministrations. She doesn't want the slow heat he's building. She wants release - hot, heavy release. The kind that builds quickly in your belly and rips through your extremities, leaving you lightheaded and weightless. They're good at it. _He's_ good at it.

Changing the game, she turns her back to him and wraps her hands around the spindles of the headboard. She grinds her hips back into his and feels the bite of his fingers digging into her flesh. She's sure she's won when he glides into her with a sure stroke.

Though his lower body gives her what she wants - fast, deep strokes - his mouth drifts lazily on her throat as his hands cup her breasts. The headboard slams into the wall in time with the heft of her breathing.

"Come on, Dean," she challenges, trying to hold back. Her body rebels and she gulps back a scream. The contrast of his powerful thrusts with the relaxed way her works her neck and teases her nipples threatens to be her undoing. "Let go."

He smirks. Knows he's the best kind of bad. The kind that doesn't leave a woman hanging. He's only done it once - 9th grade, Amanda Peterman, and only because he didn't know better - and he sure as hell won't do it to Kait. "No," he says, suckling softly on her earlobe and slowing the pace of his hips. "You first."

Kait knows he's a stubborn ass. Knows she'll have to cheat herself of a real thrill to make a clean break. Suddenly, she's beneath him. Their hands twined together, he forces her to arch against him as he assaults her mouth.

The words are on the tip of her tongue. She sees her feelings mirrored in the swirling, emerald depths of his eyes and panics. _It can't be. It's not real. I'm seeing what I want to see._

"Look at me," he growls sensually. "I wanna see you when you come."

A tear escapes and slides down her cheek, his tongue quickly lapping up the salty trail it leaves behind before he drops a kiss to each of her eyelids. "Can't," she murmurs breathlessly, tossing her head against the pillow case. "Too much..."

Dean swivels slightly, angling her - anchoring her - beneath him. "What is, Kait?" he asks, teasing her with measured movements. "This?" He nibbles her ear before mapping his way to her clavicle and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Sliding deeply - sinking himself fully within the inferno of her body - he gives her everything. Tone husky with lust, he asks, "Or this?"

"Oh, God..." she keens as he continues, hips moving rapidly. "Dean!"

She shatters. Biting the inside of her cheek, she holds back the words and keeps him from knowing the truth. Tasting the iron of her own blood, she hides the part of her self she gave him that first night.

It's over.

She's done for.

Without meaning to, she's fallen in love.


	5. What Happens in Reno

**A/N:** The final chapter of how Dean and Kait met...but not the final chapter in their story. For more Dean and Kait, check out _The Green Eyed Monster_.

Many thanks to **stephaniew** for her unending friendship. Steph is Kait's biggest fan and supporter. She's an amazing person who has encouraged me to follow every lead my muse sends my way...even when it's meant Kait got left behind. Without her, Kait would be nothing and I would be lost.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

What Happens in Reno

Green eyes squint as they adjust to the harsh sunlight streaming through the motel window. Dean rolls his shoulders slightly, his fingers flexing around the naked hip of the woman beside him. She's warm and her back is spooned firmly against his chest. He smiles, taking in the citrus and vanilla that cling to her skin and hair.

Once upon a time, this would have scared the shit out of him. Waking up in a woman's bed, her scent wrapping around him like a warm blanket as morning light filtered into the room was not somewhere he'd have been caught dead. Hell, he'd thought he'd been in love with Cassie and he'd still gotten up before dawn and snuck out of her room, seeking the emptiness of his own bed.

But Kait... Kait was different. She was quite possibly 'The One'. Being beside her - hunting, fighting, sleeping or making love - he felt special. Like he mattered. He worshiped his father, following instruction like a good son, but Kait was a partner, an equal. She didn't make him feel stupid or in the way.

Brushing a silky curl from her face, he angles himself above her. His lips wander slowly over her forehead and down the line of her jaw. He feels his body stir to life as he captures her mouth.

Kait moans softly. She's having the most vivid dream. Being kissed like she's never been kissed before. A firm mouth attaches to hers, tongue tangling against her own as her fingers weave into her partner's close cropped locks. He growls, deepening the kiss and sucking at her tongue as he cups her breast. She feels the press of his arousal against her back. _What a way to wake up..._

Only it isn't a dream. The vibration of her name rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest makes her ache between her thighs and causes her hazel eyes to snap open. She bites back a moan as he begins teasing her, his fingers moving to her center.

She needs to get up. To get away before she gives him everything she has left. Pushing him away, she wrinkles her nose and groans, "I need coffee..."

"Coffee can wait..." Dean whispers across her lips as he rolls her onto her back. He smirks, stroking two of his fingers into her tight, wet heat and shifting against her leg. "I want you."

"I couldn't tell," she says breathlessly, trying to keep things from getting serious.

He grabs her wrists and presses them into the pillow over her head as he hovers over her. Tongue tracing over her lower lip, he knocks her knees further apart so he can settle between them. Pressing his length against her thigh, he kisses her. Slowly. So slowly it's almost painful.

"Dean!" she cries out as the waves of climax wash over her body from the intimate probe of his fingers. She hates herself. Hates how she's powerless beneath his hands. Hates her body for saying yes as her mind tells her to run.

He nuzzles her throat, the light stubble covering his jaw intensifying everything she feels. His mouth finds her ear as his hand leaves her body to stroke over his need. "You're so hot..." he murmurs. Eyes dark with lust, he raises his head to stare down at her. His gaze is glued to hers as he sucks the proof of her excitement from his fingers. "And you taste so fucking sweet."

He pushes into her, maintaining his hold on her wrists and causing Kait to arch deliciously into his frame. He feels the taut peaks of her nipples against his chest. Feels the flutter of her body around his.

The pace he sets is leisurely. No need to rush. Just the desire to feel. To make _her_ feel. Everything. To watch her shatter in his arms. "Come for me, Kait," he urges. "Wanna see you come again."

Kait bites her lip as she meets the thrust of his hips. She feels the familiar tightening. She's close. Close enough she can almost _taste_ it. But she doesn't give in. Refuses to cede control. "Harder," she pleads, her eyes closing as she buries her face in his neck.

Dean cradles her, delighting in the way she clamps around him as he parries. Instead of harder, he keeps his movements shallow. Waits for her to whimper with need. When she does, he surges forward, filling her exactly the way she wants. Hard and fast, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.

"Oh, God!" she screams, raising her legs around his waist and opening herself to him completely. Giving in. Giving everything.

The satiny skin of her inner thighs on his hips is his undoing. His movements become erratic and he slips a hand between them, his thumb stroking roughly over the bundle of nerves above where they're joined.

His mouth is on hers, swallowing the sounds of her orgasm as his own rocks his body. "Kait..."

Breathing heavily, he pulls her close as he flops onto the mattress. Her pained expression escapes his notice as they float back to Earth in the aftermath. "Good morning."

"Mmm-hmm," she murmurs, trying to keep her tears from spilling. She knows this is it. The last time. If she sticks around, she's only going to get hurt. But she can't say it. Won't have that particular fight. He is what he is, and that wouldn't ever change. Right? That's why she sought him out in the first place.

Dean's phone buzzes on the nightstand. It's his dad. He's back and worried because Dean's bed hasn't been slept in. "Son of a bitch..." Kissing her quickly, he hurries from the bed and tugs on his pants. "He's back. I gotta go. I'll be back though."

Kait doesn't say anything. Instead, she wraps the sheet around her chest and tugs her lower lip between her teeth. Seeing this, he forces her to release it with the pad of his thumb and she purrs at the sensation of his rough finger on her kiss-swollen mouth.

Unable to resist, he yanks her into his arms for a devastating kiss. His tongue twirls around hers. She softens, allowing herself this moment. A moment to share one last kiss she knows she'll never forget.

"He's gonna love you," he tells her, dropping a kiss to her forehead. "Take a shower and we'll get breakfast when I come back, okay?"

He groans as another text comes through. He's reluctant to leave her. More than anything, he wants to crawl back between the sheets and spend the day pleasing her. Watching her eyes darken. Feeling her body move and throb around his. "I _really_ have to go," he says, kissing her lightly. "You make it hard to walk away..."

She's barely able to keep it together. Barely able to keep from crying in front of him. Waiting just long enough to be sure he isn't coming right back, she leaps from the bed and dresses quickly. She packs carelessly, eager to be gone before he returns. Desperate not to cause a scene.

Kait glances at his door, her mind failing to register the face of the man staring out at her. The tires slip on the gravel, causing the car to fishtail slightly. She steers the car onto the highway.

Just over 250 miles back to school. Four hours to think about the last two weeks and the man she's leaving behind.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Supernatural ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

John is throwing the rest of his stuff into his duffle when Dean walks back into their shared motel room. His voice is gruff as his eyes travel over the younger man. "Where the hell have you been, son? Get your gear packed up. We've got a case in Montana. We gotta get on the road. This could be the lead we've been waiting for."

Dean grins, rubbing a hand over his neck. "I met someone. Another hunter. She's amazing, Dad. I..."

"Dammit, Dean," his father answers, his hands landing on his hips as he scowls in disapproval.

"Come on, Dad," he complains, mirroring the older man's posture. "It's not like I ask for much. Let me talk her into going with us. It could be good to have a woman around. Especially one like mom..."

John sighs heavily and moves to the window. He watches a young woman getting into a dark colored muscle car in the parking lot. "This hunter friend of yours," he says slowly. "She a redhead who drives a Charger?"

"Yeah," he answers. "How'd you...?"

"She's leaving. Looks like she's in a hurry," John replies.

Dean snickers. "Kait loves her coffee - the fancy kind, she doesn't drink it black. I bet she's just running up the street."

John shrugs. "Doesn't look like she plans on coming back."

Dean shoves the few things he had loose into his bag. "I'm gonna ask her, Dad. Whether you want me to or not. She's good for me."

"Suit yourself," he answers. "I'll be in the car. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Stalking down the hall defiantly, he lets himself into Kait's room. _Their room_, he corrects himself. They'd hardly been apart since they met. He can't remember the last time he slept in _his _room. He turns the words over in his head. What he'll say. How he'll prove to his father he's capable of something more. That he's wanted.

"Kait?" he calls out.

Nothing. Just the sound of complete silence.

He opens the dresser drawer. _Empty_. Her shirts and the small handgun she kept hidden there are gone. So is the knife she kept under her pillow. John had been right. She _was_ gone. She hadn't even said good bye.

His stomach lurches. He laces his fingers behind his head and looks around. Much the way the moonlight had played on it their very first night together, the sun's rays tease across something metal. Her medallion. She'd forgotten her medallion. It's the only piece of her he has left now.

Pocketing the necklace, Dean allows the door to slam behind him. His stride is purposeful as he walks to the Impala and slides into the passenger seat without a word.

"You'll forget about her, son," John says, adjusting the rearview mirror as he guides the car from the lot. "Same way you've forgotten about all the others."

He can't think about her. He _won't_ think about her. _Forget Vegas. What happens in Reno, stays in Reno. _"Yeah. I know," he answers gruffly."

_Starting tomorrow._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **When and where will their paths cross again? How will they react when they see each other for the first time in years? Find out in the next chapter of Dean and Kait's love story - the soon to be released _Fairest of Them All_!

(Ask nicely and I'll post a notice here for those of you who have this on alert. *wink*)


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